I BR W * 

n/6- 



■ 



^ 






K Hi 



^. 








■V-! 



V~j 



MEMOIR 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON, 



BRIDGEWATER, MASS. 




WRITTEN BY HER FATHER, AND REVISED BY THE COMMITTEE 
OP PUBLICATION OP THE AMERICAN S. S. UNION. 



AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION. 

146 CHESTNUT STREET. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1838, by 
Paul Beck, Jr., Treasurer, in trust for the American Sunday- 
school Union, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the 
Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 



■3 >M 4 



X 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 



Mary Hallam Huntington, the 
subject of this narrative, was born at 
Bridgewater, Massachusetts, on the 
Lord's-day, June 20, 1813. She 
died Monday morning, February 21, 
1820, aged six years and eight 
months. But though her passage 
from the cradle to the grave was 
thus short, her bereaved parents and 
friends derive unspeakable comfort 
from the belief, that it was in that 
narrow way which leads to everlast- 
ing life. Though she died so young, 
we trust she "died in the Lord;" 

3 



4 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

having cordially surrendered herself 
to the guidance and disposal of her 
Maker and Redeemer, and earnestly 
sought the mercy offered to her in 
his precious gospel; and, if so, a 
voice from heaven has long since 
pronounced her " blessed." It is 
somewhat unusual among us to hear 
much of religious experience at so 
early a period of life ; but this will 
not, I trust, be considered as evidence 
against its reality. Similar instances 
have occurred in many places; and 
many well authenticated accounts 
have been published of those " babes 
and sucklings," out of whose mouths 
God hath " perfected praise," whose 
earliest accents were employed in 
grateful hosannas to the Son of Da- 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 5 

vid, and to whose tender minds, his 
gospel, though of necessity but im- 
perfectly understood, has manifestly 
conveyed a " savour of life unto life." 

In attempting to add one more 
testimony to the power and truth of 
Him who graciously said, " Suffer 
little children to come unto me, and 
forbid them not ; for of such is the 
kingdom of heaven," — I shall endea- 
vour to exhibit, with plainness and 
simplicity, the grounds of the pre- 
cious hope which we entertain, con- 
cerning the everlasting welfare of 
the dear child whose spirit we have 
been called to resign into the hands 
of Him who gave it. 

Among the means which it pleased 

God to employ in preparing her for 

1* 



b MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

his presence and service, I shall first 
notice the early and habitual exercise 
of prayer. No sooner could she lisp 
the precious names of her Maker and 
Redeemer, than she learned to lift 
her feeble voice to heaven in suppli- 
cation and praise. These exercises, 
it is true, were necessarily short and 
simple ; nor is it to be supposed she 
could, at first, have any proper un- 
derstanding or relish of them. Yet 
children do receive ideas of an invi- 
sible and omnipresent Being, and of 
their dependence upon him, and 
their obligation to him, much earlier 
than is generally supposed; nor is 
there any way in which these ideas 
can be so distinctly and profitably 
impressed on their tender minds, as 



--v.. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 7 

by teaching them to address them- 
selves to him in the language of 
prayer. The truth of this remark 
was evinced in the experience of the 
subject of this memoir. " I can re- 
collect many times," says her mo- 
ther, "when I have laboured to con- 
vince her of a sin, of which she 
seemed unmindful or insensible, 
until my heart quite failed me ; and 
feeling my need of the Holy Spirit to 
accompany my efforts, sent her from 
me, unhumbled, to implore for her- 
self a softer heart ; and in a few mo- 
ments she would return, with her 
cheeks bathed in tears, and her heart 
apparently melted under a sense of 
her depravity." Children will very 
soon, by the help of frequent and 



8 MARY H. HUNTINGTON, 

simple explanation, learn the nature 
and object of the duty; and though, 
in after life, they may cast off fear, 
and restrain prayer, yet there is 
much greater probability of their re- 
taining a reverential regard to the 
Supreme Being, than of their acquir- 
ing it, where no such early habit has 
been formed. The child of whom I 
now speak was not only accustomed 
to repeat forms of prayer, w T hich 
indeed are excellent helps to the 
performance of this duty ; but soon 
learned to address God in her own 
language, and according to the sug- 
gestions of her own mind. She was 
taught to retire regularly for this 
purpose; to consider what things 
she had need of— what comforts she 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 9 

enjoyed, and what faults she had 
committed ; and then to present her 
simple confessions, petitions, and 
acknowledgments accordingly. She 
was at the same time frequently re- 
minded, that the mere form of devo- 
tion, instead of making her any better, 
was but adding sin to sin ; and that 
she could not expect to obtain the fa- 
vour of God, unless she was sincere 
in her applications at the throne of 
grace. She was also taught, that 
prayer, or any other duty, however 
sincerely performed, could not enti- 
tle her to the divine favour ; and that 
these exercises were nothing more 
than the means, through which God 
is pleased ordinarily to bestow mercy 
upon sinners, for the sake of his well 
beloved Son. 



10 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

To prayer she early added the 
reading of the Scriptures. She not 
only read them as a regular school 
exercise, but made the Bible her 
companion in the closet. There she 
turned over the sacred pages; and 
by her quotations from them, and 
her inquiries concerning passages 
she had met with, it was evident 
that she read with attention and with 
profit. An instance of her ready 
reference to the word of God is dis- 
tinctly remembered. She one day 
found her mother overwhelmed with 
grief, by intelligence just received, 
that an intimate and highly valued 
friend was at the point of death. 
"With her usual tenderness, she in- 
quired the cause of the tears which 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 11 

she witnessed. The answer was al- 
most too much for her young heart ; 
for our dying friend was peculiarly 
dear to her also. But, lest she 
should aggravate the sorrow which 
she designed to soothe, she generous- 
ly suppressed the emotions of her 
own bosom, and raising herself from 
that on which she had affectionately 
leaned and wept, she said with an 
audible voice and collected manner, 
"Well, mother, my Bible says, for 
her to die is gain — and for you to 
live let it be Christ." Such mingled 
counsel and consolation, and from 
such a source, made grief give place 
to wonder. She was then but four 
years old, and her adaptation of this 
text was evidently the result of pri- 



12 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

vate reading : for when she was re- 
quested to turn to it, and a Bible 
was handed her for the purpose, she 
quickly ran to her chamber for her 
own, saying, she could find it there. 
And often, when desiring to make 
observations or inquiries concerning 
any particular text, to which she 
could not refer by naming the chap- 
ter and verse, she would hasten to 
her own little closet Bible, and in that 
would find it with ease. 

To aid her in deriving instruction 
from the sacred volume, she dili- 
gently committed to memory those 
simple catechisms and hymns by 
which children at the present day 
are so highly favoured, and which 
afford such welcome assistance to 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 13 

their parents in impressing on their 
young and tender minds the first 
principles of the oracles of God. 
Such was her application to these 
studies, that before she was six years 
old, she had learned at least two 
catechisms, and all the " Hymns for 
Infant Minds;" the first five chap- 
ters of John's gospel, and many sin- 
gle chapters in various parts of the 
Bible. During the last year of her 
life, she chose to study with the help 
of a question book; and at length 
joined a Bible-class, whose recita- 
tions were questions on the historical 
parts of the New Testament ; and, 
was never behind any of them in 
the usual lesson. 

It is believed she read the Scrip- 

2 



14 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

tures promiscuously, until the me- 
moir of a pious child was put into 
her hands ; upon which she imme- 
diately became desirous to imitate 
the example there presented, by be- 
ginning the Bible and reading it in 
course. It is thought, however, she 
could not have proceeded far in it, 
as her seasons of retirement in win- 
ter were necessarily short. Her last 
mark was near the close of Genesis. 

Such were the means of grace 
which she employed, or rather I 
would say, which God employed, to 
bring her to the knowledge and love 
of her Saviour. 

It could not be expected that these 
would be diligently and successfully 
used without the frequent interven- 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 15 

tion of parental, and especially ma- 
ternal care and authority. Nor 
could the utmost parental faithful- 
ness ensure the desired result, inde- 
pendently of a divine co-operation. 
But the God of Abraham still de- 
lights in fulfilling the precious pro- 
mise, " I will establish my covenant 
between me and thee, and thy seed 
after thee in their generations for an 
everlasting covenant, to be a God to 
thee and to thy seed after thee." 
Yes, this promise "is unto us, and 
unto our children, and to all that are 
afar off; even as many as the Lord 
our God shall call." On the strength 
of this promise, let us bring our be- 
loved offspring to his mercy-seat in 
the arms of faith ; and educate them 



16 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

from the cradle in the nurture and 
admonition which his holy word en- 
joins. His faithfulness cannot fail ; 
his word shall not return unto him 
void ; he has never said to the seed 
of Jacob, " Seek ye me in vain." 
I will now proceed to mention some 
of the reasons which we have to 
hope, that the gospel, in which she 
was thus early instructed, " came to 
her, not in word only, but in power, 
and in the Holy Ghost, and in much 
assurance;" only premising, that in 
so young a subject, we cannot expect 
to find all that distinctness of evi- 
dence, which riper years might have 
enabled her to afford. 

1. She evinced, during the last 
two years of her life, a deep sense 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 17 

of the spirituality and extent of God's 
law, and the evil of transgressing it. 
She had learned that the eye of her 
Maker was upon her heart, and that 
he marked the temper which was 
manifested by every action she per- 
formed, every word she spake, every 
thought she entertained. She be- 
lieved that every duty, in order to 
be accepted of him, must be per- 
formed from a principle of love. Ac- 
cordingly she strove to bring her 
passions under the government of 
reason and conscience ; and the vic- 
tories which she gained over herself 
in this conflict were truly gratifying 
to those who best knew her. 

Her natural disposition subjected 
ner to many painful trials in this re- 



18 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

spect. Her temper was unusually 
strong and irritable ; and often have 
her parents been constrained to 
humble themselves before God, while 
they beheld in her such early de- 
monstrations of "that carnal mind," 
which " is not subject to the law of 
God, neither indeed can be." But 
if their anguish in such contempla- 
tions was deep, proportionally sweet 
was their relief, when they perceived 
her to be, in some degree, acquainted 
with the plague of her own heart ; 
and when they witnessed her vigor- 
ous efforts to bring every rebellious 
thought " into captivity to the obe 
dience of Christ." 

2, To this end she was much in 
prayer to God for renewing and 



MAUY H. HUNTINGTON. 19 

sanctifying grace. Aware that she 
could never conquer the evil propen- 
sities of her nature by her own 
strength, she daily besought the 
Lord to have mercy upon her, and 
change her heart by the power of 
his Holy Spirit. For a time she 
was greatly discouraged by his ap- 
parent delay to answer her request; 
and once, in childish ignorance, com- 
plained to her mother, with much 
agitation of mind, that u God would 
not give her a new heart." During 
the last summer of her life her mo- 
ther was accustomed to visit her and 
her younger sister, after they had 
retired to rest, and inquire of them 
concerning their spiritual welfare. 
" On these occasions," she says, 



20 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

" I often found and left Marv in 
deep sorrow, at the retrospect of the 
past day. She would sob over the 
repeated faults which she said she 
had tried to avoid ; and often would 
she exclaim, with a flood of tears, 
'I am afraid, mother, I shall never 
be a Christian /' " 

3. She manifested much sorrow 
for sin. Not that mere selfish re- 
gret which arises from the fear of 
punishment, (for she seldom, if ever, 
showed any symptoms of terror,) but 
an ingenuous grief at the thought 
of having offended and dishonoured 
her Maker, Benefactor, and Re- 
deemer. Often has she come to me 
, in tears, to confess a fault of which 
, she had been guilty, and beg me to 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 21 

entreat for her the pardon of her 
heavenly Father; and then would 
retire, to renew the same earnest 
request in her closet. Her last two 
birthdays were peculiarly solemn 
seasons to her ; and we shall never 
forget the affecting interest with 
which she listened to our prayers, 
or the deep solicitude she manifested 
to grow in grace, and in the know- 
ledge of her Lord and Saviour.* 

* I cannot forbear, in this connexion, to drop a hint 
on the benefit which might result to children from a 
serious improvement of birthdays. They are too often 
noticed merely as seasons of unmeaning congratulation, 
and unprofitable if not hurtful amusement. Such an- 
niversaries may, by a little attention on the part of the 
parents, be rendered at once interesting and instructive. 
The principal birthday present which my children 
have received, has ordinarily consisted of a few simple 
rhymes addressed to them on the occasion. Two or 
three of these trifling effusions, having some reference 
to the subject of this memoir, may not be unacceptable 



22 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

For the last two years, no motive 
was necessary to persuade her to any 
duty, but the hope of pleasing her 
divine Redeemer ; and the thought 
of displeasing or dishonouring him 
was enough to dissuade her from 
any thing which she was inclined 
to do, or melt her into tears for what 
she had already done. In earlier 
life she had required some severity 
of discipline ; but now she was go- 
verned wholly by the gospel. No 
other support of parental authority 
was needful. 

4. She was much attached to the 
word of God, and all the ordinary 

to my young readers ; and may suggest some thoughts 
which they would do well to cherish as the}' pass from 
year to year of this short and uncertain life. They are 
therefore subjoined, 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 23 

means of grace. She loved the pub- 
lic and domestic worship of God. 
The Sabbath was to her a delight ; 
and she occupied every hour of holy 
time to some religious purpose. 
During the week, she applied her- 
self, with exemplary diligence, to 
her books and her needle ; but was 
best pleased when engaged in pur- 
suit of Christian knowledge ; and at 
any time would forsake the most at- 
tractive of her youthful amusements, 
to enjoy the privilege of uniting with 
her parents, or some pious friend, in 
a hymn of praise to her Redeemer. 

5. The growing influence of reli- 
gious principle within her was ma- 
nifest in her respectful and submis- 
sive deportment toward her parents 



24 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

and all her superiors ; and her affec- 
tionate and obliging disposition to- 
ward all around her. I would not 
hazard an assertion, which may so 
naturally be attributed to parental 
partiality, were it not supported by 
the concurrent testimony of all who 
knew her ; and I now offer it, not in 
honour of her, but of that almighty 
and gracious Being, from whom 
cometh down every good and per- 
fect gift, and to whom we and our's 
must be indebted for every thing 
truly pure, lovely, and of good report. 
That is indeed but a poor religion 
which does not regulate the temper 
and life of those who possess it. 
This young disciple had not so 
learned Christ. She felt herself 



MARY H.. HUNTINGTON. 25 

constantly indebted to divine com- 
passion and forbearance ; and she 
knew that pride and selfishness were 
no qualifications for an inheritance 
in that world where " all the air is 
love" 

6. She not only endeavoured to 
promote the happiness of those im- 
mediately around her, but, according 
to her knowledge, appeared to feel a 
warm interest in the spiritual welfare 
of her distant fellow creatures. She 
thought and spake much of the poor 
heathen ; especially of heathen child- 
ren, whom she knew to be destitute 
of the religious privileges in which 
she found such pleasure and profit. 
She loved them not merely " in word 
and in tongue," but " in deed and 

3 



26 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

in truth ;V and cheerfully expended 
all her little earnings to assist in 
sending them the precious gospel. 

As she drew near the close of life, 
her Christian graces brightened. 
When first her daily employments 
were interrupted by the disorder of 
which she died, she expressed to her 
mother some uneasiness at the ne- 
cessity of being idle, as she was not 
confined to her bed, though she could 
neither read nor work. She was 
reminded that there are duties for 
every situation ; and that, though 
she could not be active, she might 
glorify God by patience and submis- 
sion. After a few moments' silent 
reflection, she replied, " Yes, mother, 
I believe it is well for us to be sick 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 27 

sometimes, for when we are well we 
are apt to forget to pray, as I have 
done." 

The concluding words of the sen- 
tence were accompanied by tears, 
and uttered in a tone of sorrow, 
which led to an inquiry, whether 
she had neglected that important 
duty. She acknowledged, with her 
usual frankness, that, though she 
had not wholly neglected it, yet 
since the recent enlargement of our 
household had deprived her of her 
wonted place of retirement, she had 
been less regular in closet duties. 
This early improvement of her sick- 
ness may serve as a specimen of her 
habitual readiness to notice the good 
hand of God in every thing. From 



28 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

that moment she appeared to have 
trimmed her little lamp, and to w'atch 
with new earnestness for the coming 
of the Bridegroom. But little did 
any of us then think that his arrival 
was so near. 

In a few days she was confined to 
her chamber, and her complaint* 
assumed a more alarming appear- 
ance — alarming, I say, to us, whose 
hearts ached at the thought of part- 
ing — but not to her. She received 
the intimation of our fears concern- 
ing the issue of her illness with the 
most entire serenity. Apprehending 
that the composure with which she 
spake of death might result from 
ignorance or insensibility alone, her 

* Dropsy in the head. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 29 

mother (much at the expense of 
her own feelings) expatiated fully 
on the awfulness of that untried 
change; the agonies of dissolving 
nature ; the separation from earthly- 
friends ; and then asked her whe- 
ther she would prefer to recover, and 
remain in this world, to struggling 
with the corruptions of her heart, or 
die, and thus be freed from tempta- 
tion and from sin. The rod and 
staff of her good Shepherd suppress- 
ed all fear of evil, and she calmly re- 
plied in the language of the apostle 
Paul, " To depart and be with Christ 
is far better." This conversation 
took place while I was absent from 
home. On my return it was repeat- 
ed to me ; and to prove the nature 
3* 



30 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

of her tranquillity still farther, I sat 
down by the chair in which she was 
supported by pillows, and tenderly 
taking her hand, asked her whether 
she was indeed willing to leave me, 
her mother, her sisters, and all her 
dear friends on earth, (mentioning 
many of them by name,) for the sake 
of going to Jesus. She seemed for 
a moment loath to answer, lest she 
should appear wanting in affection 
for us, but soon replied that she was 
willing. " Why, my dear," said I, 
" do you love him so much V/ She 
readily answered, " Because he first 
loved me." " And what," I asked, 
" leads you to think he has thus loved 
you ?" " He gave himself to die for 
me," was her reply. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 31 

In the early part of her confine- 
ment she was able to read a little ; 
and when no longer capable of that, 
she desired others to read to her 
from the Scriptures, and other reli- 
gious books. Next to the Bible, she 
valued the "Hymns for Infant 
Minds," and " The Young Cottager." 
She was particularly interested in 
that passage of the latter, which re- 
lates the circumstance of little Jane's 
repeating and appropriating, in her 
sleep, the prayer of the thief on the 
cross — "Lord, remember me — re- 
member a poor child — Lord, remem- 
ber me!" These words, she said, 
were peculiarly suitable for her also. 
Of the hymns, she selected some as 
adapted to her circumstances. She 



32 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

was much interested in that begin- 
ning with the words, 

" Tell me, mamma, if I must die," — 

and as she sat thinking ijpon this 
hymn, her head pensively leaning 
upon her hand, she pointed to the 
lines, 

" These hands and feet and busy head 
Shall waste and crumble quite away," &c. 

and, reaching it toward her mother, 
said, " That is suitable for me." 

She was also particularly attached 
to the hymn " for a dying child ;" 
and after she was confined to her 
bed, and unable to read, requested 
her younger sister to learn it, that 
she might repeat it to her. 

Though she was, through divine 
mercy, exempted in a great measure 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 33 

from the delirium, stupor, and con- 
vulsions which usually attend drop- 
sy in the head, she endured much 
bodily distress. Not one expression 
of impatience, however, was heard 
from her. The groans and shrieks, 
which sudden pain sometimes ex- 
torted from her, were instantly sup- 
pressed by the mention of her Sa- 
viour's greater sufferings, and she 
would seem to forget herself in me- 
ditation upon that affecting subject. 
While she was thankful for her in- 
tervals of comparative ease, she pro- 
fessed her willingness to endure as 
much pain as her heavenly Father 
saw best to inflict upon her. A pas- 
sage of Scripture read or repeated 
to her, a hymn, or a prayer, was the 



34 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

only entertainment she asked for her 
few quiet moments ; and even in the 
midst of her bodily sufferings, her 
mind was tranquil and serene. She 
uniformly declared herself happy, 
and seemed full of love and gratitude 
to all about her. Often, when the 
cessation of her pain permitted, she 
would tenderly call on " Anna dear" 
(her younger sister) to say " those 
verses" — meaning two which parti- 
cularly interested her, one from the 
Hymns for Infant Minds : 

" Once did the blessed Saviour cry, 
' Let little children come ;' 
On this kind word I would rely, 
Since I am going home." 

The other from a hymn of Dr 
Doddridge : 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 35 

" I take these little lambs, said he, 
And lay them on my breast ; 
Protection they shall find in me, 
In me be ever blest." 

On Sabbath morning, a week be- 
fore her death, her mother sat down 
by her bed-side, and reminded her 
of the day ; informing her that it 
was not expected she would spend 
another such on earth ; but told her 
that in heaven there was a perpetual 
Sabbath She seemed a little sur- 
prised that her change was consider- 
ed so near ; but a glow of satisfaction 
soon illuminated her sweet face; and 
when asked, " Mary, what will you 
do there?" she readily and cheer- 
fully answered, " I shall sing praises 
to God." 

On the afternoon of the same day, 



36 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

some friends called to see her ; and 
after they had left the chamber, she 
hastily said, "I wish I could go 
down !" Her mother replied, that 
she should not think it hard to be 
confined, as she had so many com- 
forts about her; and reminded her 
of those who were poor and friendless 
as well as sick. She seemed grieved 
at the thought of having appeared 
ungrateful, and said, "I know I 
should be thankful, mother, and I 
believe I am. I know God is good 
to me. It is God who placed me 
here, and provides for me so kindly; 
and he directs the doctor what to do 
for me — I do feel thankful." She 
then immediately requested her mo- 
ther to take the Bible, and read to 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 37 

her about her Saviour, an expedient 
which never failed to conquer every 
selfish or impatient feeling. 

She generally desired to have the 
evening prayer of the family offered 
in her chamber, and would suppress 
every sigh and groan, which her dis- 
ease would otherwise extort from 
her, that she might not interrupt, or 
lose the benefit of, the exercise. 
When asked what petition should 
be presented for her, she usually re- 
plied, " That God will spare my life, 
and give me a new heart." But the 
former of these requests she relin- 
quished a few days before her death, 
and said, " That God will give me a 
new heart, and take me to heaven." 
The last time she directed us in our 

4 



38 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

prayers for her, she said, " Pray that 
my sins may be forgiven," and then 
after a solemn pause, she added, 
"Give me to God." 

She always spoke with diffidence 
concerning her prospects for futuri- 
ty ; for she considered it a great 
thing indeed to be prepared for hea- 
ven. Though she uniformly pro- 
fessed a love to her Saviour, her 
hope of admission to his presence 
was ever chastened by an humble 
sense of her un worthiness. 

The night preceding that of her 
departure, while she was so feeble 
that we stood around her bed wait- 
ing for her last sigh, her mother, 
desirous to hear her voice once more, 
and to learn whether her reason was 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 39 

continued to her, asked, though with 
little expectation of an answer, "Is 
Mary going to heaven?" After a 
solemn pause, as if revolving in her 
mind the interesting question, she 
replied, in soft and tremulous ac- 
cents, " I hope so !" And O ! it was 
like a voice from heaven, whispering 
peace and tranquillity to our trou- 
bled breasts. Her mother then re- 
peated to her a few verses from the 
14th chapter of John, "Let not your 
heart be troubled," &c. She could 
make no reply, for weakness; but, 
opening the eye which was yet left her, 
for she had been deprived of the use 
of one some days, she listened to the 
Saviour's words with a glow of sa- 
tisfaction on her countenance, more 



40 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

expressive than any language could 
have been. 

This was our last distinct commu- 
nication with her, concerning her 
spiritual prospects. Once, on the 
following day, being asked if she 
was still happy, she attempted to 
answer "yes;" but though the 
movement of her lips revealed her 
meaning, her voice could not be 
heard. At two o'clock on Monday 
morning, after a painful struggle 
with the last enemy, she entered, 
we trust, into the joy of her Lord. 
Yes, we believe " it is well with the 
child." Shall her bereaved parents 
speak now of submission and acqui- 
escence ? Cold words ! Rather let 
our hearts be filled with gratitude, 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 41 

and our lips with praise ; " for, if we 
believe that Jesus died and rose 
again, even so them also which sleep 
in Jesus will God bring with him." 
I do not mean to express absolute 
certainty in this, or any similar case ; 
God alone perfectly knows the heart. 
Education is one thing, and regene- 
ration is another. Yet, in view of 
such evidences of early piety as I 
have had before me in that beloved 
child, I think I can rest, with sweet 
composure, on the promises of the 
covenant of grace. " Yes," (to adopt 
the language of Mr. Newton on a 
similar occasion,) "I am satisfied — I 
am comforted; and if one of the 
many involuntary tears I have shed 
could have recalled her to life, to 

4* 



42 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

health, to an assemblage of all that 
this world Could contribute to her 
happiness, I would have laboured 
hard to suppress it." I must now 
leave parents to draw conclusions 
for themselves from what is here 
presented to them ; but cannot per- 
suade myself to close this little me- 
moir without a word of affectionate 
counsel to children and youth. 

My dear young friends : 

I have written these pages chiefly 
for your sake. It is my earnest de- 
sire that the death of my beloved 
daughter maybe sanctified to you. 
Some of you knew her, and loved 
her. You have tenderly wept over 
her cold remains ; you have followed 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 43 

her mortal part to the grave ; I feel 
soothed by the affection which you 
bore to her ; and may God grant, 
that your fond remembrance of her 
may lead your thoughts often to that 
unseen and eternal world whither 
her immortal soul has fled. 

She will meet you in the house 
of God no more ; she will unite with 
you no more in reciting the precious 
truths of the gospel, and singing the 
praises of the Saviour here below. 
She is the first of your number who 
has yet been taken away by death. 
Ah ! little did I think, when writing 
the hymn for your closing exercises 
the last season, and when I heard 
my dear Mary's voice with your's 
employed in singing it, that she 



44 MAllY H. HUNTINGTON. 

would be the first in whom that so- 
lemn anticipation would be realized, 

" Of our little blooming band, 
Some may feel death's icy hand," &c. * 

But so God had determined. There 
must be a first to die from every 
company ; and surely it is well that 
one was taken who was hopefully 
prepared to go. But as there must 
be a first , so there must be a second. 
Who of you will next be called, we 
cannot tell. She was apparently 
one of the most healthy in the whole 
school. There is no calculation to 
be made upon long life. It is infi- 
nitely important that you all be pre- 
pared to follow her. God is saying 
to you by her death, " Be ye also 

* See this hymn entire at the end of the book. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 45 

ready !" One, youthful and bloom- 
ing like yourselves, has gone to her 
last account. my young friends, 
ask your own hearts, whether you 
are prepared for death and for hea- 
ven. I have endeavoured, in this 
little book, to show you in what way 
this preparation must be made. 
Heaven is the eternal dwelling of 
those who love God, and delight in 
his service ; who receive the blessed 
Redeemer to their hearts, and earn- 
estly endeavour to honour him in 
their lives. In order to honour him, 
you must honour your parents ; you 
must study your Bibles ; you must 
daily pray, that God will enable you 
to understand, and believe, and obey 
the gospel ; you must hate sin, and 



46 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

forsake it, with godly sorrow for the 
past, and humble resolution for the 
future ; you must set your affections 
on things above, and live not unto 
yourselves, but unto Him who died 
for you, and rose again. 

O let me exhort you to attend 
diligently to the counsel and instruc- 
tion which your parents offer you ; 
or, if they forget this great duty, put 
them in mind of it ; beg of them not 
to let your souls perish in ignorance, 
through their neglect! Ask them 
to teach you the way of life ; to pray 
with you and for you ; to lead you 
to Jesus, and commit you to his al- 
mighty and merciful hands. 

And O may He, with whom is the 
residue of the Spirit, touch your 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 47 

young hearts by the power of his 
grace, and fulfil in your experience 
his own precious declaration, " I love 
them that love me ; and they that seek 
me early shall find me" 



48 MARY H. HUNTINGTON; 

LINES ADDRESSED TO M. H. H. 

ON HER SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 

Your birthday, dear Mary, has come, round again j 

How swift is the flight of a year 
'Tis swift as the race-horse that scours o'er the 
plain, 

Or the swallow that glides through the air. 

The race-horse must rest in his stable, before 

Another such course he can run ; 
But Time never pauses ; when one year is o'er? 

That moment a new year's begun. 

The horse must be whipped, or he lags on his way, 
And forced is the courage he shows ; 

And e'en the light swallow must perch on the 
spray 
Now and then, for a little repose. 

But Time needs no urging to quicken its pace, 

It hurries unwearied away ; 
It waits not for us, but keeps on in its race, 

Through the minute, the hour, and the day. 

Then strive, my dear Mary, each hour to employ* 

Each swift passing moment improve ; 
That when life is spent, you may look back with 

Having spent it in duty and love. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 49 

Now come to the Saviour ; begin this new year 

With sweet adoration and praise. 
Give your young heart to God ; He will make you 
his care, 

And help you to walk in his ways. 

Then, when all your days and your duties are past, 
He will send down his angels of love ; 

To watch round your pillow, and bear you at last 
To the presence of Jesus above. 
June 20, 1819. 



TO A. M. H. 

ON HER SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 

Six precious years, my dearest Ann, 
Have passed, since you this life began ; 

How swift the flight of time ! 
What tender thoughts my heart awake, 
While once again my pen I take, 
My annual offering to make, 

And write your birthday rhyme ! 

Six precious years forever gone ! 
And now the seventh is rolling on, 
And hasting to its end. 
5 



50 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

Your time, dear Ann, makes no delay; 
Awake, asleep, at work, or play, 
Busy or idle, sad or gay, 
Your little life you spend. 

Six years our lovely Mary past 

On earth; the seventh proved her last— 

The last of sin and wo. 
She early sought her Maker's face ; 
She early felt his cleansing grace ; 
He called her to his kind embrace, 

And she rejoiced to go. 

Like her, your blessed Saviour seek ; 
Be humble, patient, mild, and meek, 

Obedient, kind, and true : 
Begin and end each day with prayer, 
And strive, by diligence and care, 
To bless your parents, and prepare 

For heaven and glory too. 

May God forgive each folly past, 
And help you, this new year, to cast 

All foolish thoughts aside : 
That since each day you older grow 
Each day new wisdom you may show, 
Till, at the Saviour's call, you go 
Where all his friends abide. 
December 28, 1820. 



MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 51 

HYMN 

FOR THE CLOSE OF A SABBATH-SCHOOL. 

When shall we thus meet again 1 
When shall we thus meet again 1 
When the dreary winter's past, 
When is hushed the northern blast, 
When new verdure clothes the plain, 
Then may we here meet again. 

But what changes first may come ! 
Of our happy number, some, 
Round a much-loved parent's bier, 
May let fall the parting tear ; 
And in orphan grief complain, 
Ere we thus shall meet again. 

Of our little blooming band, 
Some may feel death's icy hand ; 
From the friends on earth we love, 
Early make our long remove ; 
And among this favoured train, 
Never, never meet again ! 

Or, perhaps the fatal dart 
May some faithful teacher's heart 
Pierce, with death's dissolving throes ; 
And those lips in silence close, 
Which have made our duty plain, 
Ere we thus shall meet again. 



52 MARY H. HUNTINGTON. 

Let us then with care improve 
Lessons taught in Christian love; 
Let each truth their lips impart 
Dwell in every grateful heart ; 
That — their labours not in vain — 
We at last may meet again. 

When our summers all have fled — 
When the task of life is said — 
When our wasting years shall be 
Lost in vast eternity — 
Where the " saints immortal reign"- 
Then may we all meet again ! 



THE END. 



w 






'JtthA 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS fl 

IlIPllMIllUP I 
019 971 798 4 








^lljfli 




^4$r# 



;&'-:; 



% 











61 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

mil 

019 971 798 4 



